My life of late has been filled with last looks.
You know, the last look you'll see before moving on with your lives. There's a lot that can be said in this look. And I think I've gotten rather good at reading them.
When I decide to hand this look out I try my best to make it hopeful, happy. As if to say; 'I enjoyed the time we had. I will think of you fondly, I truly do hope we meet again.' In this look, I'll wonder when the universe will conspire again for us to meet as coincidentally as we did. Will it ever?
But these are the looks I give, the hopes I send out into this universe, hoping one day she will whisper back with a fortunate smile.
But here is to mention a few last looks I've received of late:
'Thanks for the great night babe, on to the next'. And it stings as much as you'd think.
Some say, 'thanks for lending an ear and listening to my heartbreak-story selflessly - I needed to get that out'.
Some say, 'we will make a plan to see each other again, I'll come visit' - knowing well the promise is likely to be broken. But good intentions are there.
And then there are those that are filled with a sadness, a wanting of more.
I wish I got to know you better, I wish I got to laugh more, louder, longer at your stories. With you.
I wish I didn't have to go.
I tend to turn away from these looks before they fully hit me.
And I don't want to give this look out, again.
I don't want that last look, I don't want it to last, to be the last.
These last looks hit me the most, occur more often and regularly of late.
One day won't you just turn around and say; ‘I hope never to give you a last look again.’
The universe has conspired and I am here.